Explanations
by Silver Sailor Ganymede
Summary: We know that the Dursleys claimed that Harry went to St Brutus’ Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys – but how did other families explain their magical child’s absence from home?
1. Hermione Granger

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Explanations  
I. Hermione Granger

"I propose a toast," Grandfather Granger said, swaying to his feet and holding the glass of wine aloft in front of him. "To Hermione's success."

His words were echoed by the other adults around the table (those being her mother and father, and Grandma Granger and Grandma Puckle), and the sound of clinking glasses momentarily filled the air. Hermione focused her attention on the small glass of wine in front of her and sank slightly lower in her seat; she wasn't used to all this attention, not at all.

"I'm so proud of you, darling," Grandma Granger said with a smile and Hermione felt herself blushing.

"It's hardly a surprise though, is it?" Grandfather Granger laughed. "I mean if anyone would get an academic scholarship to one of the top schools in the country, it'd be our Hermione."

"I'm not that bright," Hermione mumbled, wishing that the topic would chance and that they'd finally talk about something other than the fact that she would be off to boarding school in two weeks' time.

"Don't be so modest, darling," her mother said. "And for goodness' sake, smile a little. You look awfully miserable."

Hermione tried to force herself to grin but it came out as a grimace.

"You'll have ever such a nice time at boarding school," said Grandma Puckle, a wistful look in her eyes. "I went to boarding school myself, you know, and it was so much fun. You'll be around people like yourself for once, too, and that'll make a nice change."

Hermione nodded, realising that her grandmother was right. Maybe she oughtn't be so worried; she was bound to make more friends at Hogwarts than she had at primary school if everyone was going to be just like her... wasn't she?


	2. Dean Thomas

II. Dean Thomas

"You're going to _boarding school_?"

Dean wasn't sure what to make of the expression on Uncle Jack's face. Uncle Jack wasn't really his uncle, of course; he was his stepfather's brother. But his stepfather had been around since Dean was a year old, so his stepfather practically _was_ his father and Uncle Jack really _was _his uncle.

"Yes, Jack," Dean's stepfather sighed. "I've already explained this to you twice."

"But what the bloody hell's one of us going to a boarding school for?" Uncle Jack howled in dismay. "It's gonna be full of toffs and Tories – and how do you intend to pay for it?"

Dean's mother's expression darkened. "You obviously haven't been listening. We've already told you that he got in on an art scholarship. All we have to do is pay for the books and the uniform."

"He's talented just like his mother" Dean's stepfather laughed. His mother smiled. Dean simply wanted them all to shut up so they could finally have dessert.


	3. Wayne Hopkins

III. Wayne Hopkins

Wayne hated Sundays. In his opinion they were most definitely the worst day of the week. On Sundays they always went to his grandparents' house and he had to sit in the living room and listen to Bampi shout at whatever rugby match was on the television. Wayne didn't like the rugby; he would much rather have been in the kitchen with Mamgu, helping out with the dinner, but according to Bampi only girls were allowed to do that.

Still, even sitting and having to watch the rugby was better than being stuck on his own with Mam. She had always been a bit strange around him, and ever since they got the letter a few months ago she had become even worse. Or maybe she just seemed worse when he heard her silent misery against Mamgu's humming and Bampi's cheerful shouts.

Wayne ignored the rugby match, instead staring outside. The streams of smoke rising from the Port Talbot steelworks and the perpetually awful Welsh weather had always made Wayne feel rather depressed, but after spending so much time in the cheerful, sunny badger-set that was Hufflepuff house, Wayne felt even worse. It wasn't helped by the fact that his grandparents' house smelt of a peculiar mixture of damp, cooking and the cheap perfume that Mamgu insisted on wearing even when they completely ran out of money to buy anything else.

Mamgu set the food on the table in front of them. Wayne started to eat but he couldn't taste a thing – only the damp and the fumes from the steelworks, which seemed to have permeated every single inch of the town. He didn't care that it was nearly Christmastime and he was back for the holidays; he just wanted to be at Hogwarts… no, at home again.

"So, Eleri, tell us about this school that Wayne's disappeared off to then," Bampi mumbled through a mouthful of food, one eye still fixed firmly on the rugby.

Mam pursed her lips and got that annoyed look in her eyes again, like she really didn't want to talk about this. "I've told you before, Tad. He's at a school for special children."

As usual the word 'special' sounded wholly negative when it was Mam who said it. There was the unspoken sentiment that 'special' actually meant 'weird' – because he was just like his father. His father had been 'special' as well, and then he had run off and left Mam all on her own with Wayne and they'd never heard from him again. She hadn't wanted him to be 'special' like his father.

Mamgu seemed to notice the tension in the room, as she turned her gaze out of the window, staring as intently at the sky as Bampi was at the rugby match.

"Oh ych y fi. Mae'n bwrw glaw."

Wayne didn't speak Welsh like Mamgu, but even he knew what she'd said. It was raining again. It always rained miserably in Wales.

* * *

**_A.N: Just some notes on the Welsh in this piece –_**

**_'_**_**Mam' is the Welsh word for 'Mum'  
'Tad' is the Welsh for 'Dad'  
'Mamgu' is the Welsh for 'Grandma'  
'Bampi' is a colloquialism for 'Grandad' (the actual word for granddad being 'Tadcu')  
**_'_**Ych y fi' is a typical Welsh expression of disgust at something  
'Mae'n bwrw glaw' means 'It's raining'**_


	4. Justin FinchFletchley

IV. Justin Finch-Fletchley

"Honestly, Delia, I fail to understand why you decided not to send the boy to Eton," Justin's grandfather was saying again, his cold blue eyes fixed pointedly at his mother. "And furthermore I can't see what possessed you to send him to _Scotland _of all places. This place… what was it called, the Merlinus Ambrosius' Academy, was it? I've never even _heard _of it before!"

Had Justin been anyone else, he probably would have been very annoyed by his Grandfather's behaviour, but as it was he didn't care. His grandfather still spoke about his father as though he was a child and not in the room sometimes, and his father was almost forty, so Justin knew he couldn't honestly expect anything else.

"I've told you before," his mother sighed, "Justin just didn't like it at Eton. The competitive atmosphere wouldn't have suited him at all – and you know he hates his prep school."

"Balderdash," Grandfather snapped, pouring himself another large brandy and sipping at it, his face an expression of pure disgust as he did so. "What are you playing at Delia, serving me this rubbish?" He slammed the brandy down on the table, sending his mother an icy look. Justin's mother simply glared back at him, not one to be intimidated by her father-in-law.

"That is a perfectly decent brandy, Jeremiah," she said in clipped tones. "You're the one who bought it over, and you were telling me earlier just how wonderful it is."

Grandfather, of course, denied all knowledge that such a conversation had ever happened. "And I still do not understand why you think a bit of competition would be bad for the boy. It never did me any harm, did it? And how can you be sure that the boy will get any of the right sort of connections by going to this obscure place?"

Privately Justin thought that all that competition had done Grandfather Finch-Fletchley a lot of harm indeed. His icy manner and curt way of speaking reminded Justin rather too much of Draco Malfoy. Then the thought struck him that if his grandfather had been a wizard, he would most certainly have been sorted into Slytherin. The thought did nothing to make the house seem any less intimidating.


	5. Lily Evans

V. Lily Evans

"I'm so proud of you, Lily-flower," Granny Evans was gushing again, absolutely delighted. "It's wonderful that you've been accepted to a school like that on a scholarship."

Lily smiled serenely at her grandmother and grandfather. Petunia stabbed at her potatoes, trying to conceal just how much she despised the situation. Their grandparents had come round for tea that afternoon and all they'd done was give Lily presents and sweets and gush about how brilliant she was. Petunia had got nothing at all.

"It's such a shame though," Granny sighed.

"What's a shame, Mum?" Petunia's father asked, frowning.

"That Tuny wasn't clever enough to go to that school, too."

Petunia slammed her fork down on the table and stood up. She wasn't going to put up with this.

"Petunia Susan Evans, where do you think you're going? You haven't even finished your dinner," her mother snapped.

"I'm not hungry," Petunia said through gritted teeth, then left the room and slammed the door behind her. So Granny and Grandpa thought she was stupid now, did they? Not like perfect little Lily. She would had preferred it if they'd known that Lily was a witch; maybe they would have realised what a freak their perfect Lily-flower really was then.


	6. Neville Longbottom

VI. Neville Longbottom

"I'm not going to be going to West Craven College with you next year," Neville said in a rush.

Andrew and Robbie looked very surprised. Whatever they had been expecting Neville to say, that was definitely not it.

"You're moving?" Andrew cried, a look of horror on his face.

"Not exactly," Neville replied. "I, well, I sort of got accepted to my dad's old school."

"Where's that?" Robbie asked.

"Somewhere in Scotland."

_"Scotland_?" Andrew howled. "That's too far to go to school every day!"

"Of course it is, you nutter," Robbie laughed. "He's obviously going to be boarding, aren't you Nev?"

Neville nodded glumly.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Robbie asked. "We're you're friends, right?"

"We only just found out and, well, Gran thought I'd be too stupid to get in," Neville replied. He could feel himself blushing, but neither Andrew nor Robbie laughed. They were his friends after all, the only ones who _didn't_ laugh at him.

"You're not stupid, Nev," Robbie said. "Other people are the stupid ones."

"Yeah. Just because you're rubbish at football doesn't mean you're thick," Andrew said with a grin, then shut up when Robbie elbowed him in the side, hard. "Well ok, you're not _that_ rubbish at football."

"We're going to miss you," Andrew said. "Make sure you write to us, ok?"

"I will," Neville replied. They obviously thought he was glad to be going to his dad's old school, but he really, really wasn't. He would much rather have gone to West Craven College with Robbie and Andrew; he already knew for certain that he'd never find friends like those two at Hogwarts.


	7. Severus Snape

VII. Severus Snape

The house stank of beer again. That, combined with the fact that Severus could hear shouting, obviously meant that his father was home. There were other men sitting in the living room, too, which was never a good sign. The only time that Tobias and his friends sat drinking in the living room in the middle of the day was when there was no work at the mill, and that always put them in the most rancid mood possible.

So this was what his mother hadn't wanted to tell him.

Severus tried to creep past the living room as quietly and quickly as he could, but unfortunately for him the muggles caught sight of him before he could escape.

"Boy! Get in here!"

Severus flinched. His mother looked apologetically at him and began to lug his trunk upstairs. There was no way he was going to get out of having to see his father… no, not his father, just _that hideous muggle_. It was a pity; Severus would have been perfectly content never to see the man again in his life.

Instead Severus walked into the living room, glad that his mother at least had been momentarily spared the evil muggle's drunken raving. She, unlike him, had to put up with the monster every single day of the year. At least he only had to stand the man's rage until the end of the summer – if he was still alive by then.

That most evil of muggles was sprawled out on the sofa, a half-empty can of beer clutched in his hand. Two of his friends were sitting with him, all three of them equally burly and gormless and drunk out of their minds. Filthy, disgusting muggles.

"So where's this boy of your been all year?" one of Tobias' friends asked, swinging his hands as he spoke and splashing beer onto the already-filthy carpet.

"St Brutus'," Tobias Snape replied with a grunt. "It's where they send freaks like him. St Brutus' Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys." He slurred so much that Severus wasn't entirely sure if he'd heard him correctly, but it was still enough to make his blood boil. That animal of a man was the one who should have been kept in a 'secure centre'. Or maybe a cage; that would be more fitting. Lucius Malfoy was right, as ever; the whole lot of them should be kept in cages like the animals they were so they couldn't be of harm to anyone. If they did that then he and his mother would be safe, and he'd definitely be able to return to Hogwarts in the autumn.

"No offence, Toby, but borstal's the only place that's fit for brats like 'im," one of them said, then they all started laughing.

"Bad blood, see," Tobias replied. "Never shouldda married that bitch."

"You leave Mum out of this," Severus snarled. The muggle could do what he liked, just so long as he didn't do anything to harm or insult his mother.

It didn't work. He got a slap for his impertinence – the first of many to come during that long, horrible summer.


End file.
